


Metamorphosis

by eyemeohmy



Series: Sparkeater Froid AU [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark, Evil Cackling, Gen, Implied Torture, Squick, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rung had a rival once. Now he has a pet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metamorphosis

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea, and so I wrote it, and I'm gonna dedicate it to robo-hunter-chaim, my Froid-lover in arms. Bless you, friend.
> 
> I dunno how I feel about the final product, but I wrote it, so that's that. /firm nod/
> 
> And, as you can tell, since this is Shattered Glass realm, things get dark and gross real fast.
> 
> EDIT: I also always forget sparks are called embers in SG. So gonna change that. Also, from now on, I'll be using cybervore/s over sparkeater/s, since it's an alternate name for sparkeater. Sparkeater doesn't work too much in this universe.

"It's not a matter of 'if,' but 'when.' At this point, it's inevitable if you continue acting out."

Whirl grabbed at his head, body still reeling from the powerful shock to his system. Electricity washed down his frame, popping in little bursts on shivering, heated plating and armor.

Rung watched on from his seat in the small room, legs folded, hands resting on the datapad in his lap. His expression was passive and unimpressed--per usual. "Ultra Magnus feels I should increase your dosage," he stated, and Whirl looked up, his single optic wide and horrified, "but I said no. So I trust you'll follow instructions more concisely from now on?"

Whirl bowed his head. Slowly nodded.

Rung smiled. "Good," he said, "I'll make sure Ratchet doesn't make the adjustments when he's repairing your vocalizer, then." He swished a hand. "You may go."

It was painful, but Whirl knew better than to take his time. Instead of a scream, he could only manage a static-laced whine as he stood with every remaining ounce of strength in his body. Which wasn't much. His right knee joint locked, forcing him to limp out of the office, dragging his leg along like dead weight.

Rung paid him no mind, adding a few details to Whirl's file with a stylus. The doors shut a minute later. Finishing his notes, Rung gathered to his feet, switching off the 'pad and filing it away with the rest of his patients' records.

Rung turned, took a step forward, then stopped. Stared at the burnt patch in the middle of his floor. He sighed, adjusting his glasses. Would have to call someone in to repair this mess. Maybe Whirl, once the CMO was through with him.

It had been a long day.

Rung headed for the door to his personal quarters connected to the small office. He punched in the door's unlock-code--intricate, even for a lock-code--and the door opened with a soft beep. Yellow light poured into the dark room, touching a distant shelf of datazines and exotic-looking statues.

Switching on the lights, Rung moved to the kitchenette. Started preparing himself a kettle of hot energon. He paid no mind to the soft clattering of movement behind him. A figure, long, lanky, and dark-colored, slunk out from around the other side of his berth. 

Rung poured the kettle full. Green droplets fell from the creature's mouth as it closed in, predatorily stalking with the same grace of an animal. Its mouth opened, wide, unnaturally wider; Rung switched on the stove. The creature was standing right behind him now, a low hiss echoing from the pit of its throat, but Rung did not turn around.

Four tentacles snaked in the air, rising, their edges complemented with powerful hooks. They hovered just over Rung's head. The serrated blades at the end of the middle tentacle's blossomed open; a needle-stinger protracted, its pointed tip inches from the nape of Rung's neck--

"I've nothing for you today, unfortunately," Rung said simply. He set the kettle on the stove and turned to face the monster.

Not that the cybervore had always been a monster. In fact, he'd once been a mech, very much like Rung; not only physiologically, either.

"Don't give me that look, Froid," Rung tsked, but the cybervore continued scowling. "You're just going to have to wait until tomorrow." He crossed the room, Froid watching closely, his tentacles still floating in the air. As soon as Rung sat in his recliner, he climbed to all fours and walked over, sharpened fingers tic-ticing along the tiled floor.

Froid came to a sit between Rung's legs, his head reaching the small mech's chest at this height. He dipped down, resting a cheek against one of the therapist's thighs. "Always so affectionate," Rung smirked, and stroked a hand along the finial down the center of Froid's head. "Then again, close physical contact was one of your treatment recommendations for the healing process."

Froid tilted his head into Rung's hand, rubbing against the open palm. Rung's gaze drifted to his neck. "They're almost gone now," he said, fingering the remaining puncture tracks along one of Froid's throat cables. "You're coming along nicely. I've never seen such improvement, compared to your state last week."

The transformation had been slow. Small injections of the cybervore CNA administered through the sternoline. Froid spent the first week vomiting energon, fuel, and then some congealed, black fluid that smelled foul, just as nasty as it looked. Plating started falling off by week two.

By week three, Froid's basic frame-structure was mutating. Struts expanded and shrunk. Mouth and throat cables stretched, allowing Froid to unlock his jaw with ease. Dental plates sharpened; the mouthpiece cracked and broke, falling away so he could form a more traditional--albeit deformed--mouth. His optics had changed colors, melting away plating around his right eye until it was nearly completely exposed.

And by the end of the month, Froid's spine had grown and thickened enough to split into three individual tentacles. The blades grew in quickly after. Once his stinger formed, the transformation was complete.

Already a lanky, tall mech, Froid looked thinner, somehow, longer, his spindly arms more articulate than before. He walked easily on all fours while still maintaining the ability to move upright and bipedal. Every contour, curve, and edge of his body was sharp and weaponized.

Froid hummed, a noise that sounded like a guttural purr from his disfigured vocalizer. Words became lost as memory banks and RAM cleared up space, making room for more useful information and instincts. He growled, he screeched, he whimpered, but he never talked.

Not anymore.

"It's been a very long day," Rung exvented, dropping his forehead against Froid's. The cybervore blinked uneven optics; at least he still had basic understanding tools, and saw his master was uneasy. He nuzzled against Rung's forehead, his mouth parting; a long tongue unraveled, running up the orange bot's cheek, leaving behind a streak of harmless coolant. (Acidic coolant was reserved only for food, as he'd been trained.)

Rung smirked, sitting up and wiping his cheek dry. "You've become so much more warm and receptive now, Froid," he chuckled.

In the beginning, he'd only received hostility from his former "rival." Even before he was a cybervore. There'd been fear and anger and misery, but he saw none of those in Froid's glazed optics now. Just affection and devotion.

No. That wasn't quite true. There was still a healthy amount of fear.

Rung pushed Froid aside to pick the whistling kettle from the stove. Froid followed him, exposed actuators along his back rippling.

It took some training to tame Froid. It didn't take _long_ , however. Rung knew how to control people; he'd just need a little extra help when working with a wild animal. He dealt with worse, anyway.

One of Froid's tentacles hovered along the counter, feeling for anything he could eat with the receptors on his blades.

"No, no," Rung lectured, and slapped away the tentacle. That was a warning.

Froid huffed but sat and watched Rung pour himself a drink. The hot energon looked so appetizing, Froid's mouth watering. It wasn't an ember, but... He remembered, still, the taste of hot energon. Of engex. Of regular food. What it felt like on his tongue, how warm it moved down his throat. He remembered the taste and texture--but not the times he had consumed it.

Rung sat back down, turning on some nice ambient music. Nature sounds; they did wonders. He blew into his hot energon, Froid watching the steam billow and disappear. Rung took a swallow, sighed; smiled. Much better. Rung sunk back into his chair, relaxing, optics closing. Keeping a loose grip around the tall glass sitting on the armrest.

... And, honestly, Froid had almost gotten away with it. He'd certainly been quiet enough, and waited until Rung had dozed off. But Rung snapped out of his tired daze just in time to see Froid dipping his long tongue in the glass, experimentally lapping up a small swallow. He couldn't feel the boiling heat--he was used to consuming things much hotter.

"No," Rung said, and tapped the inside of his wrist compartment. The shock collar around Froid's throat activated, sending jolts of electricity through his torso, shooting into his limbs.

Froid gasped and fell back, seizing and twisting on the floor. Rung held his finger down against the installed control pad, watching with half-lidded optics behind purple-tinted glasses. He waited until smoke started to seep from Froid's seams like the wisps of steam rising from his cup of energon. Finally, he let go and closed his wrist.

Froid flipped onto his hands and knees, and with a gurgle and low _hurk_ , vomited energon and digestive fluid on the floor. His entire body moved in great heaves, shaking violently as he started dryly hacking.

"Look at the mess you've made."

Froid reluctantly looked up at Rung now standing, his optics bright. Froid looked terrified. He shrunk closer to the ground, two tentacles moving between his legs. He started to slink away, but Rung pointed to the puddle of expelled fluids and scowled. "Clean it up," he ordered with a steely calmness.

Froid hesitated before dragging his belly along the floor, back to the mess. His tongue moved in swirls in the vomit; he lapped it up, resisting the urge to puke again. Rung sat and watched, easily sipping his hot energon.

It seemed Froid made more of a mess licking it up, but Rung expected as much. Still, he smiled and leaned over, hand raised. Froid saw it draw near and instantly recoiled--to his surprise, Rung instead pat him on the head. Froid visibly loosened and moved back between the orange bot's legs.

"We won't be making that mistake again, will we?" Rung chuckled, dragging his knuckles down Froid's thick, segmented spine. Froid responded by raising a tentacle and gently coiling it up around Rung's arm; he gave it a small squeeze before loosening and dragging free.

Rung finished his energon and washed the glass. He cleaned up the remainder of the mess on the floor then went to his berth. Froid waited, arms crouched and bent like spider legs.

Rung pat the space beside him, and Froid excitedly hopped up, tentacles swishing. "On your back," Rung ordered, and Froid stretched out obediently. "I must admit: I do miss our arguments. You're not as stubborn as you once were."

While Froid had never been much of a real threat, he had become something of an annoyance. At first, Rung was amused, even a little entertained, with someone who dared oppose his views. He'd never met anyone who tried to argue against him. And Rung had fun, playing with this novice--for a while, at least.

Then people started actually _listening_ to what Froid had to say.

Now the little thorn in Rung's side was getting bigger. And, really, he just couldn't have that. It'd been so much fun, playing with his rival. He'd been professional about it; he warned Froid more than once to mind his manners, keep out of his business, and to shut his mouth, if he'd be so kind.

Stubborn, so, so stubborn. In the end, it all worked out for Rung. He wasn't remotely surprised it took Froid so long, after all their playtime sessions, to finally ask for release. To beg for mercy. Even if mercy meant death.

A breakthrough in their sessions, finally. Rung wished he had recorded it.

Rung laughed. "I tuned out for a second there. I just get so nostalgic, you s--"

There was a chime from his office door. Rung stood, Froid rolling over. "Now who could that be?" Rung hummed curiously, leaving his room. Froid watched the door shut; he could hear people speaking with Rung, voices that sounded familiar, speaking in words that he once understood. Now it all sounded like white noise and inane garble.

Suddenly, the door opened again, Rung stepping in with a large smile. "It seems you're in luck, Froid," he cheered. "Ultra Magnus finished early."

Froid didn't know what Rung meant, but by his excited tone, something good was going to happen. Then Rung took out the leash; that warranted one of two reactions. A good one, if Rung's voice was any indication. So instead of flinching away and being coaxed, Froid crawled over to the orange bot, bowing his head so Rung could clip the leash to his shock collar.

It was all animal instincts that suddenly had Froid in a frenzy. The moment he saw the three mechs--two holding a struggling Decepticon between them--he automatically strained against the collar. He could smell their embers, feel the heat they emitted, even through the thick metal plating. Hunger took over, overriding Rung's commands, and Froid desperately tried breaking from his leash, gnashing his teeth and tentacles at the three mechs. He clawed wildly at the air, and Rung had to fight to keep control.

"You--ah--two gentlemechs might want to leave now," Rung smirked, sinking his heels into the ground, "we'll take things from here."

"You sure?" the Autobot asked. He shook the gasping, struggling Decepticon. "This guy's a bit wily."

Rung smiled. "I'll be just fine."

"No! No, please!" the Decepticon pleaded. His Autobot captors checked his stasis cuffs before throwing him on the ground, right on the patch of burnt tiles. He stared, wide-eyed and horrified, at the hungry cybervore. "Please, no! No, I'll tell you--"

"Magnus got all he needs," one of the guards snorted. He and his partner left the office, and now all of Froid's attention was on the Decepticon flopping uselessly on the ground.

"I know this doesn't mean much, but we are both very grateful for your contribution," Rung chuckled.

"No, Primus, pl--"

Rung let the leash go. Froid sprinted over; the Decepticon screamed before he was thrown up and onto his back. Froid pinned him down, sinking claws easily into his pauldrons. Two tentacles lunged forward, ripping plating off the Decepticon's chest, tossing it aside.

"Help me! _Help me, please_!" the Decepticon sobbed. He could feel the strong magnetic pull on his ember, forcing it closer to the surface.

Froid lowered his head, opening his mouth and letting corrosive saliva spill free. The Decepticon screeched; the acid burned through the remains of his dermal plating and armor, leaving behind a hole. Froid could see the ember now, and his mouth split wider and wider into a sinister, hungry grin, showing stretched cords and ligaments and fangs.

The Decepticon's scream was cut short as Froid bit down, taking the ember whole in his mouth. The Decepticon's optics dimmed; his body gave one final shudder before going completely still. His face permanently frozen in a terrified, twisted expression.

Froid rolled the ember inside his mouth a moment before throwing his head back. He choked it down with a few heavy swallows; it bulged against his throat as it went down, disappearing. A second later, it fell floating in the pool of acid in his exposed belly. It glowed brightly, even as it was slowly dissolved.

Rung finished comming a cleaning crew. He smiled at Froid, now digging out the dead Decepticon's chest, licking at nearby cables and circuits for residual ember energy.

"You're making a bigger mess," Rung tsked.

Froid drew his head out of the giant hole in the corpse's chest cavity. He moved over to Rung, squatting before him. "How do you feel now?" Rung asked, and Froid responded with a growl, flopping onto his side then back at Rung's feet.

Rung chuckled. He playfully rubbed Froid's tank, feeling the heat from the floating ember under the translucent plating. "It's been a very long but interesting day," he sighed happily.


End file.
